In the End
by Quarentined
Summary: He's not quite sure how he's supposed to cope but he does, in the end. Ignores S3, my take on a post S2. More of a Rhydian character study but it's a "what he did after Maddy left". Rhydian-centric but Maddian/MaddyxRhydian


He still misses her. The first couple of years had been tough, when he couldn't have possibly followed her properly and people at school wondered what it was about him that made everyone leave. First Jana then Maddy, within a month of each other. (Had he fucked both behind each other's backs? Had he fucked both at the same time?!) And whilst it hadn't been his fault that Maddy had to go (maybe if he'd never arrived...) he is plagued by her.

He tried to follow a month after they left, to the day. But the guilt of not saying goodbye to Shannon and Tom or even his foster parents flooded in and he'd stood in the forest for an hour, contemplating in which direction to carry on. When he arrived home, he'd been crushed by more guilt, which choked him as he lay in bed at night, staring at his ceiling whilst trying to conjure up Maddy's face. He was glad that he still could imagine her dark eyes and hair, but she was never smiling in his thoughts. Rhydian wonders if this is because that's how he saw her last, tears trickling down her cheeks and voice cracking as she admitted her love for him. He would have waited years to hear her say those words at a different time.

When he was eighteen, he disappeared.

He is not sure if he meant to leave quite so silently, but he had promised Maddy, sworn to find her-

He doesn't.

Rhydian arrives home, 3 months later, sullen and quiet, to the relieved faces of his friends and family, much in need of another haircut. Perhaps he is too rash, he considers, maybe he should trust her more - they'd find each other. Eventually. Someday.

But for now, university awaited.

It has been 8 years since she left. He is not old by any means - at 25 years old, technically his life is just starting. Shannon and Tom had managed to get him through the ridiculous system that was UCAS, forcing him to practice for interviews and writing his personal statement. They are good friends and he feels for them too - he is not the only one pained by Maddy's absence, and she knew them far longer than he had ever been in the picture. He knows that it would be wrong, and not to mention heartless to disregard their feelings.

Rhydian does not pretend that getting from A-Levels to a place at Newcastle University, studying what he has always loved, art, was easy. But he does not deny the happiness he feels when he receives his results, and the looks of delighted pride from the Vaughns (who had put up with him despite his tendency to not come home from school until hours later, and the numerous number of times they'd been called into school to discuss his behaviour and had loved him through it all, enough to make him feel safe) and Mr Jeffries (who has given him many disappointed lectures on loss and coping with it, and had to drag him off Jimi before his facial structure was permanently damaged twice as often than before) - who have watched him succeed from months of hard work and fighting through the pain of not having Maddy by his side. Shannon was the one who'd been most concerned with his mental state, and at the time he often wondered if she was right - that he shouldn't be alone in that old art room, just him and his thoughts. Looking back, he is glad he spent those hours in the dusty studio, for though he had not quite accepted her absence, he had started to cope without her. Jimi's face went weeks without a fresh bruise to show for his newfound tolerance of the world.

He had missed Shannon and Tom a great deal at Newcastle, as busy he had been. Tom had decided at some point that physiotherapy and sport science was much more his style than English Literature and had gone to Leeds. Shannon, after days of tortuous self doubt, had applied and been accepted to Edinburgh University to study Medicine. Rhydian is proud of them both, undeniably and irrevocably, and he gives credit to Shannon for managing to keep them together though they all lived spread out across the whole of the north.

He doesn't stay there.

Rhydian is an artist now and there's few enough art jobs as there is. London is the only way really, but he always imagined staying up north, in case she came back to look for him so he could be there to open the door and hold her like he's imagined for years.

But he needs to live his life, so London it is.

The flat he rents is cheap and crap but it's enough. Rhydian could imagine Shannon's face already, wincing and pulling faces at the state of the chipped tiles in the kitchen and the slowly peeling wallpaper in the living room. He likes it though. His place has character. _She_ had character too and he wonders how much that has changed. He wonders if she still dances when the radio comes on, swinging and jumping and laughing. He wonders if her smile still feels like the sun. The thought of her hand in his encourages him to look for her again.

* * *

It has been 8 years, 9 months and 24 days when they find each other.

He had been painting freelance for a while, struggling as all artists do, before qualifying and taking a job as an art therapist. It's mostly work with teenagers, angry and broken like he once was - he enjoys talking to them, finds it fulfilling, because it wasn't so long ago that he was equally furious and embittered.

But he is okay now in a sense, the hole in his heart simply there instead of making itself obvious with every beat. He has friends in London and Shannon and Tom still visit him and vice versa - he is not unfulfilled.

When he opens the door he expects the postman with the new canvas he ordered last week.

He does not expect _her_.

They stare at each other for a long time, taking in the differences.

She looks beautiful, but then she always has, and then she's smiling slightly and sadly and breathes out a "Hello".

He forgets how to breathe, but his hand has a mind of its own and extends out to touch her, to check that she's real and won't disappear or disperse into the air like ashes.

She certainly feels like Maddy.

She tilts her head into his hand so he cradles her cheek and he thinks he may cry but that'd be okay because there are tears in her eyes too.

"I missed you," he whispers because he isn't quite sure his voice works and maybe, just maybe if he speaks too loudly she will startle and run away. Again.

"I'm here now," she replies and smiles, "Told you we'd find each other."

He kisses her until he memorises her scent once more and forgets everything, even his own name, except hers, _Maddy_ , because now he remembers what it is to be whole and _happy_.


End file.
